


Without Losing Heart

by Sapphire_Princess



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Cannon Divergent, Dealing With Loss, Hurt/Comfort, James and Ronson were lovers, M/M, Past Bond/Ronson, Past Character Death, Ronson’s first name is Sebastian, Set after Skyfall, Tanner is the Mum friend, greiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_Princess/pseuds/Sapphire_Princess
Summary: Tanner isn’t exactly shy about asking Q to check in on Bond after an envelope 007 received that morning.Q does, but what he finds when he gets to Bond’s flat isn’t at all what he expects.It would seem that James Bond has more ghosts than Vesper Lynd and he’s ready, finally, to honour someone’s memory and lay them to rest.





	Without Losing Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the photo prompt challenge table set by Team00 as part of 007 Fest 2018.  
> Pictures were Q and Tanner in Q Branch during Skyfall. And Sad James in his dressing gown looking at documents in his flat.  
> This is what I came up with.

“M said I’d probably find you here,” Tanner says, entering MI6’s temporary Q Branch.

Q looks up from his computer briefly. “Until I can get the new Branch completed there is very little point moving.”

“Not tempted by the new headquarters or C’s domain?” he asks, placing an all-too-familiar bag filled with takeaway on the end of the table.

“Max Denbigh is a deplorable excuse for a human being and I will do my upmost to stay as far away from him as possible,” Q says, his eyes scanning the lines of code he’s been working on. Once he’s happy he hits return, saves it and closes the lid of his computer.

“Not a fan?”

Q stares down his friend.

“Fair enough. Mallory can’t stand him and I’m sure I heard Eve say something about wiping the smile off his face if he comes near her again.”

Q smiles at this and relaxes.

“It’s probably a good thing that he’s away for the foreseeable future. Working on something or another.” Q takes the trays of food Tanner hands him and splits his chopsticks.

“It sounds as if you have a history with him.”  
Q shakes his head. “We’ve never been in the same room. But we know of each others work. He’s… driven. But I don’t like the way he works.”

Tanner raises his eyebrows but doesn’t press the point. He seems to understand that Q has had a very long, hard day.

“Is anyone else joining us this evening?”

Q shakes his head. “R is at home and Bond…. Bond was here this morning but left after lunch. Something about paperwork, whatever that means,” he explains, opening the container of jasmine tea and taking a sip. 

When he looks back at his friend he finds him stock still, a pained expression on his face.

“Shit. You’re about to tell me that this is the anniversary of something, aren’t you. I wasn’t unkind or unpleasant, I just said he was welcome back here soon.” In the months since the Skyfall incident Bond has spent more and more time in Q Branch, teasing, flirting and talking. But Q has also almost put his foot in it on more than one occasion. “Bill, if you can’t tell me it’s fine. I’ll make sure we have the good coffee tomorrow, just incase. But if there’s something I need to know…”

“Bond received some paperwork this morning. I though it was nothing at first but once I’d seen the department return address I made sure it got to him as soon as he arrived.”

“Which department?”

Tanner shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” Q tells him. “I have no real right to ask or to know. I just need to know if I need to be careful around him.”

Tanner meets Q’s eyes for a second, then looks back at his food. 

“If I thought he’d open the door I would have gone round later this evening. But he doesn’t want my sympathy.”

Q knows it can’t be related to M - Olivia Mansfield - because everything has come through and settled since then. Bond didn’t leave Q branch for almost three days and almost drove Q mad. But R, having done some research had pulled him aside and explained. He put James to work with the most recent prototypes after that and spent the rest of the week tweaking and adjusting everything until they were field-ready. 

James’ quiet, _‘thank you, Q.’_ had made him blush so hard and his heart race that he’d been tempted to ask for one of those dinners Bond kept asking him to go to with him.

“Moneypenny?” Q suggests.

“Has a date this evening and refused when I asked her.”

Q takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“Is this your way of asking me if I’ll go and check on him?” Q asks, glaring at Bill over the top of his tea.

“Yes. I think he’ll be glad of your company.”

Q rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to be there simply to distract him into meaningless flirting with me because he seems to enjoy it.”

“You really still think it’s meaningless?” Bill looks surprised.

“He’s 007.”

Bill looks slightly pained. “He’s not doing it to make fun of you, Q. And this evening I really think he could do with the company of a friend, you, if I’m honest. Tell him I sent you if you really have to. That way you’ll have something to talk about.”

Q already knows he’s going to go. Of course he will. Because Bond is his friend and if Tanner is bold enough to ask him outright then it means something is up.

“Alright. After we’ve finished this. But if Bond seeks retribution for sending me his way then I won’t stop him.”

Bill smiles and relaxes somewhat. “That’s fair.”

***

Q doesn’t want to think about the fact that he has a spare change of clothes and needed toiletries with him in the second compartment of his laptop bag. He can, of course, use the excuse that he always prepares for everything… but it rings hollow inside his own head. 

If Tanner is worried, then Q should be too. And he is, now. He can’t help but wonder about the content of that envelope. 

He doesn’t know whether or not Bond expects him or has surveillance around his flat bar everything Q has arranged for him in the months since his return. But nothing and no one stops Q’s progress to his front door and the alarm on his phone doesn’t activate.

He knocks on Bond’s door and waits.

When the door opens Q doesn’t expect for James to be in a god-awful dressing gown the shade and design of horrendous 1970s curtains, or for the genuine surprise on his face.

“You are never allowed to comment on my clothing choices ever again, Bond,” he says and watches as James’ lips curl into a smile.

“Good evening, Quartermaster. It’s comfortable and warm and I don’t think anyone else has ever seen me wearing it before now.”

“I’ll keep your secret. I doubt anyone would believe me anyway.”

James’ smile reaches his eyes this time and he opens the door wide. “Come in, Q. Then you can tell me what you’re doing here.”

Q does and waits while Bond locks up behind him.

“You can hang your coat here,” James gestures to the coat hooks on the wall behind him. If you’re planning on staying for a while you can leave your shoes underneath. I know better than to try and separate you from your bag.”

He slips off his shoes and follows James to the small kitchen to the right of the entrance hall.

“Tea?” 

“Oh, yes. If you have any,” Q says, surprised.

Bond pulls a selection box down from the cupboard then flicks the kettle on.

“R was mortified when she found out I hated it so she gave me this to see if it would change my mind,” James tells him and Q feels his eyebrows raise again. “I haven’t got any siblings, but R is the sister I would have wanted,” he explains, having seen Q’s expression.

“She would be happy to hear you say that.”

Q notes that the lapsang is by far the most depleted and thinks that R has succeeded in her quest. 

Whilst James busies himself with making their drinks, Q looks around the flat. It is somewhat sparse and despite evidence to the contrary, it looks un-lived in. It is clean, aside from the scatter of papers on the coffee table. And the large bottle of scotch and an empty glass.

“How long have you lived here?” Q asks.

“Since I got back.”

Q only nods in response, not sure of what else to say. It feels barren and sad, this place that houses one of their nations heroes. It is a sharp contrast to his home, to Tanner’s house or Moneypenny’s flat. But it’s also not the home Bond left during his… retirement… and it has been a very hard time for all of them since. 

“I almost don’t want to ask because I don’t think the answer will be anything I want to hear, but why are you here, Q?” James asks, placing a mug of tea with milk in front of him. His expression gives nothing away.

“Tanner asked me to pop in. He said you might appreciate my company this evening.”

James looks mildly surprised. “Did he say why?”

Q meets his eyes. “He said you’d received something this morning and he thought you might want company. He also said he didn’t think you’d answer the door to him, and that he will take the blame if needed.”

James rolls his eyes, grabs his own mug and walks over to the couch. 

Q follows and places his bag next to him, sitting a polite distance from Bond.

“Im surprised you let him talk you into it,” James says lightly, though Q can tell the message is anything but.

“I was worried. And I didn’t think it would do any harm,” he tells him honestly.

“It hasn’t,” James says just as the silence was beginning to stretch. “You don’t have to stay, though. You can tell Tanner I’m fine; I haven’t even opened the bottle.” His tone is carefully neutral but Q feels his heart break, just a little. 

“I never agreed to report back and he won’t push. He is worried about you; I think he worries about all of us. I’m glad he told me. I had no idea that anything was wrong when I saw you today.”

“There isn’t really a place for this at work,” James explains, gesturing to the papers on the table. “And you were busy. Plus, you’ve never once taken me up on my offer of anything outside of MI6.”

Q feels his face heat in embarrassment and shame. “I haven’t ever been sure what you wanted from me.”

“I don’t make it a habit to sleep my way around the service.” His tone and his words are careful, Q feels like he has to tread carefully… and honestly.

“I don’t think it was really your reputation that worried me.”

“Q?”

He shakes his head. “This shouldn’t be about me. I came here to see you,” he says as gently as he can.

James looks as though he’s going to say something, but gives in with a nod. He gathers some of the papers together and hands them to Q.

“This is what came for me this morning. I wasn’t expecting it, but maybe I should have been.”

Q accepts them but can’t stop the look of shock he’s sure is all over his face.

_‘Last will and testament of Sebastian Ronson.’_

He reads on to the part that have been highlighted, indicating that some things - including the proceeds from the sale of a painting - have been left for Bond.

The rest of the pages were more of the same - none of them important - until Q came to the last one in the pile. It’s a letter, addressed to James. Q’s eyes scan the first line before he puts everything back on the table.

“I… don’t need to read this. It’s rather private and I didn’t come here to pry.”

“It’s not a test, Q. I wouldn’t have let you see them if it wasn’t okay to read it,” James says quietly.

“Even so, I… don’t want to tread on your memories like that.” He bites the inside of his lip and blinks back the tears trying to build in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry for your loss.”

James nods and looks out of the window into the cold of the night.

“I was listed as his next of kin, but I never quite got around to listing him as mine. There wouldn’t have been anyone or anywhere to come back to either way. I knew he was minutes from death when I found him and there wasn’t anything I could have done.” James’ tone is careful, even and quiet. “He was in my will, though, and there was a letter for him. Not that he ever got to read it.”

“How long?” Q asks softly.

“A year, maybe longer. It just… happened one night whilst we were undercover. We liked each other so it happened again and again. Before long we were exclusive - outside of missions, obviously. And I’m not ashamed to say that I loved him.”

“I wouldn’t think there was anything to be ashamed of.”

“M knew. She knew when she told me to leave him to die, and when I arrived back at her flat. I would have come back much sooner if he’d lived. I asked Felix to check for me, and he did. I couldn’t have made it in time for the funeral so I drowned my sorrows instead.”

“Bond. There isn’t anything wrong or unusual with what you did,” Q says softly. “He knew the risks as well as you. We all do.”

“It doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I didn’t say it did,” Q says in reassurance. 

James’ blue eyes are watery when he turns to look at Q. “I have moved on, and made my peace with it. I killed the bastard that killed him and most people don’t get that satisfaction. But this…. this brought it back.” He reaches over and picks out the letter again. “Please, read it. It helped me.”

Q takes it with hesitant fingers and adjusts his glasses before reading. 

_‘My dear James,_

_I know it’s cliched to say it, but if you’re reading this then I have died and you are, hopefully alive and well. It would be a shame if you weren’t._

_I won’t waste time with any other pleasantries that I’m sure you don’t have time for. But I will say this; I love you. I love you and it has been a privilege to be loved by you, James. Not your number._

_It’s fair to say that we’ve gotten pretty close. And I have enjoyed our time together._

_I hope that you don’t grieve too hard or for too long. I won’t insult you by pretending you don’t care. You hide it well but I know you do._

_I also hope that you keep your heart open to love in the future, now you know that there can be more than one love in your life._

_I’ve left some things to you; mostly money because I know you want to retire if you live long enough. And I know you hated that painting. It’ll annoy my aunt if I sell it and give the proceeds to you. She’s always been a greedy bitch._

_Please, James, be well, keep as safe as you can and let yourself be loved._

_Life is, as we both know, far, far too short._

_Yours with love and affection,_

_Seb.’_

Q places it back on the table with a gentleness usually reserved for things far more dangerous than a dead mans heart. 

It is a relief to know that James had fallen in love again, that perhaps Vesper Lynd’s shadow doesn’t hurt him as much anymore. But it is undeniably sad. 

“I didn’t know him,” Q says. “But I was there the day they put his name on the memorial wall. He was a well respected and liked man.” 

James nods his head, then sips the mug of tea he’s been holding since Q started reading the letter. 

“He would have been saddened by my behaviour since I returned.”

Q doesn’t think it’s his place to comment but Bond seems to be waiting for him to say something. 

“How so?”

“You’ve seen this place, Q. Does it look lived in? The only real effort I’ve made here is to drink less and wash. I spend at least an hour every night staring and all the whisky and scotch and vodka in my cupboards, and wonder which one is the best choice to down my sorrows. I rarely do, but I can’t stop myself from considering it.”

“I don’t see how that’s unexpected or unreasonable. You have seen a lot. We, all of us know the results of our work. The good and the destructive.” 

“Do you know that it’s over a year since he died?”

“Yes.” Not just because Moneypenny had avoided Bond and therefore Q Branch that day. At the time it was reasonable to assume Bond was grieving for his friend. But there was perhaps a hint of immense sadness in his eyes when he thought Q couldn’t see him. 

“I want to tell you something, Q.”

“Alright,” he agrees. 

“But I want you to know that I’m serious. And you don’t have to do or say anything in return.”

“Bond...”

“Please, Q, you can call me James.” He sounds wary and Q wonders if he’s been sleeping, if he’s still plagued by nightmares and all that he has been subjected to. 

“James, you can tell me whatever it is you need or want to.”  
Bond shakes his head with a self-depreciating laugh. 

“I haven’t, though. I’ve masked my intentions with things I know are far too open to interpretation and I’m afraid I’ve been giving you the wrong impression.”

Q doesn’t speak, afraid of breaking the fragile bridge between them. 

“When I first met you I didn’t think you could possibly be real,” James says, the first hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You were smart, funny and capable. Bizarre choice of first meeting place, aside. I liked you instantly. It was refreshing to meet someone with your intelligence and clear competence.” 

Q frowns. “I let Silva into our systems.”

“Not deliberately. And, as I remember, you were under direct orders.”

“True,” Q admits. “But it’s not something I’ll forget easily.” 

“That’s how we learn, Q.” His words are gentle without condescension. “I respected and trusted you almost from the moment we met. And when you agreed to lay a trail for me I knew it was returned. But I think I’ve been making a nuisance of myself since.”

Q shakes his head. “You’re welcome in Q Branch whenever you want. You’re one of the only agents we like having there.”

“Who are the others?”

“004 and 008.”

James chuckles. “No one ever says 009.”

“Ah, well. That’s because we’ve met him.” Bond’s wide smile is filled with genuine amusement and Q finds himself smiling back. 

“Even so, there is something I should be honesty about with you. Seb would want me to and I want to as well, I think I just needed a reminder.” 

Q wonders if James has a picture of his lost love and knows he’ll find one for him if he doesn’t. 

“It’s alright, James. Go on.” 

“I have been trying to ask you to dinner because I would like to take you out, with me, as my date. Not because of any other reason than I like you and want to get to know you. I’ve not been upfront about it because I was too afraid to open up again.” 

Q is struck silent. 

“I realised my feelings for you went beyond professional or friendship soon after we’d met but I was a mess and MI6 was in chaos. And I respected you far too much to pursue you on a whim.”

Q swallows around the lump in his throat but still can’t find any words of his own. 

“I want to pursue you with genuine interest and intent, Q. But only if it’s something you would want. And you keep everything so close to your chest that I haven’t ever been sure if you feel the same... or are even open to it.

“Either way, I’m glad you came here this evening. I wasn’t in the best place after reading that. I felt like I was letting him down all over again. The reminder of what I hadn’t done and wasn’t doing stung as much as it helped. I said it was his memory that kept me from opening that bottle but the night would have been a long one and I wouldn’t have slept. I think it would have been empty by morning.” 

Q doesn’t disagree. That’s why he’d come here, why Tanner had been worried. 

“If. If I had ever once thought you were serious I would have agreed without hesitation,” he finally manages to say. “But you flirt and tease so many of us that I couldn’t work out if you meant it in the way you do with Moneypenny... or something else.” 

“Would you like to come to dinner with me, Q?”

“Yes. Absolutely,” he agrees with a smile. Feeling his cheeks blush and his eyes water. His heart is hammering in his chest. “Before that, though, and you can decline, I’ll understand. Would you rather come back home with me than stay here? This can’t be the best place for you tonight.” 

James hesitates. 

“I can invite R, if you like?” This seems confuse him. “She feels like your sister but legally she’s mine. R used to live with me but I had to move out when we were both promoted. She lives with my grandparents and her altered identity lists her as my adopted younger sister.”

“I knew you were close, but I had no idea.” 

Q smiles. “She would have told you at some point. I think she was waiting on me.” 

“Maybe tomorrow evening,” James tells him with a hopeful smile. 

Q doesn’t let his disappointment show. If James needs time then he will make sure he gets it. Despite what he’s said, Q is sure the loss of Ronson is especially painful tonight. 

“Alright. I’ll let her know and we’ll see you tomorrow. Q Branch is open to you as always. I’ll finish my tea and leave you in peace.”

“No, Q.” James places a very tentative hand on his arm. “I’ll come with you tonight. Invite R tomorrow.” 

“If you’re sure?”

James nods. “I’m sure.”

***

They finish their tea and James insists on washing them before they leave. He disappears to his bedroom and packs a bag, then walks back to the table. 

“You can bring it with you,” Q reassures him, coming to stand at his side.  
James nods and puts the letter and will back inside the envelope then inside his coats inner pocket. 

He then brushed his hand against Q’s, seeking silent permission, which Q grants. Squeezing as their fingers link together. 

“Lead the way, Q.”

***

James barely says a word during the tube journey to Q’s Home. He just sits close to him and keeps to his thoughts. 

Q knows it must be hard and even given what he’s agreed to this evening, he doesn’t know what he would do if James didn’t come back one day. Especially if he had to abandon him in his final minutes, forever wondering if he could have saved him if he’d just stayed with him. They lost the disk anyway. 

James stands back whilst Q locks up behind them, only stepping forwards when Q asks him to choose a code and hands him a key. 

“You should have them. I know you know you can’t break in here. I don’t want you to need to.” 

“Q...” When Q turns he’s staring down at the key in his palm. 

“R has one. And I’ll know if either of you ever come here without me.” He nods and brings out his keyring, slipping the non descript key with the others. 

***

James changes into pyjamas and joins Q in the kitchen where he’s feeding the cats. 

“Feynman and Tesla, this is James.” They both look up, seem happy with their appraisal and go back to their food. “They will probably come to you after their dinner.”

Q makes them something to eat, more tea and grabs a packet of biscuits all on a tray before leading James to the front room. 

The curtains are closed and the space is comfortable. Book shelves on one wall, a few photos, DVDs and books. 

James goes straight for the sofa and collapses into it. 

“Would you rather I leave you be?” Q asks after they’ve eaten. James looks better but he hasn’t said very much at all. 

He shakes his head. “I want to talk about him,” he says very quietly. 

“Alright.” 

Q learns about Ronson’s likes and dislikes, that he spoke four languages and loved watching terrible action movies. He didn’t share James’ love of books but he’d listen to radio dramas or podcasts whilst James read next to him in bed or on the sofa lounging together. 

James tells him of a week they spent in Spain together; swimming and having copious amounts of sex in their private villa. Of evenings and weekends spent doing ordinary things like shopping and doing their laundry. 

He cries as he mentions their final night together. No foreboding, just two men eating dinner at Bond’s old flat and falling into bed together later. 

“I thought. I thought as I fell off the train and down, down into the water, that I didn’t mind death if it meant I’d see Seb again. I didn’t dare hope when I lived. Then Felix told me he’d died and I hated everything.” 

Q leans over and wipes the tears from James’ face, strokes a hand through his hair and brings his head slowly, slowly down into his lap. 

“And then you. In that bloody gallery. A spark of hope I didn’t think would exist for me again. But avenging Ronson ultimately meant M’s death... and I’m not supposed to care this much.”

“No one has ever said that. Agents that don’t care either end up dead or like Silva. You have never let your heart dictate what you’ve had to do. It’s the same as bravery in the face of fear. You can be afraid, but bravery means doing what you have to do anyway.” 

“No wonder M made you Q. Wise mind in such a young body.”

“Not that I’m about to contradict you, but do you know how old I am?” Q asks, wanting to keep the lighter tone. 

“No. I can’t access your file at all. I know you’re at least 25.”

Q huffs fondly and rubs James’ hair. 

“I’m 31.” 

“I’m 42.” 

Q smiles. “I know that, James. I’ve seen your real passport. The age gap doesn’t bother you and I couldn’t care less. We’re both mature adults. When we want to be.”

“Hmmm true.”

“Do you want to sleep?” Q asks. James’ exhaustion is coming off him in waves. “I have two spare rooms. Or you can bunk with me? If it would help.”

“You’re being very good about all of this, Q. You need to let me know if any of this is too much,” James tells him, shifting to lie on his back and face him. 

“I care, very much, and I want to make sure you’re safe. James, do you know how many times I’ve wanted to take you up on your offer? How much I hoped you were serious? But I didn’t want to be the young, naive Quartermaster who had a hopeless crush on 007.”

“Q.”

He shakes his head. “I refuse to be jealous of the dead. Especially when Ronson was such a good man. And he loved you. That isn’t unimportant.” 

“I don’t like putting this all on you.”

“And I don’t like the weight you refuse to let anyone else carry or alleviate.”

“Stubborn.”

“It has been said, yes.”

James’ laugh is weak and exhausted, but real all the same. 

***

James gets into bed and settled while Q is in the bathroom. When he comes back He’s awake and waiting for him. 

As soon as Q is under the covers James reaches for his hands, holding them in his own. 

“Come here,” Q says softly, rolling into his back and brining James with him to rest on his chest. He puts his arms around Q and presses his face against his heart. 

Q strokes his fingers through his hair until he’s sure James is asleep, then lets himself fall under as well.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed stand alone HOWEVER. I have been writing a direct continuation, which I will post separately when it’s completed. But I’ll link them as a series.


End file.
